Showing posts with label lunch duty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lunch duty. Show all posts

Thursday, June 18, 2009

On Middle Schoolers and Microwaves

Lunch duty is not my favorite time of the week. I enjoy the conversations I've had with students during lunch, but it's hard to banter about soccer with the boys or to talk one-on-one with a struggling student when there are only a few pairs of adult eyes watching a roomful of 300 gangly adolescents. There's always something up the sleeve of these mischievous middle schoolers, whether they intend to wreak havoc or not.

I was on duty with middle schoolers one day this past spring and had been chit-chatting with some students standing in line when a curly-haired sixth grader cut in front of me, breathless.

She could hardly spit out the words. "Miss! The microwave's on fire!"

I was about to ask her to wait her turn to speak when her words actually penetrated my thoughts. I looked at the far corner counter where the two microwaves sat and spotted some smoke. Quickly, I walked over to the microwaves, where already students had gathered to rubberneck.

Gently I shooed them away and opened the door to the microwave. Puffs of smoke blew out, but no fire.

On the rotating glass, I saw the culprit: a taco wrapped in aluminum foil.

The curly-haired girl, at my shoulder, breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to her, I asked, "Hey, do you know what aluminum foil does in microwaves?"

Her eyes opened wide as she exclaimed, "It wasn't me, miss! She did it." She pointed to a tiny girl next to us who squealed shrilly (as if on cue) and ran away in fright as suddenly as she had appeared.

It's in moments like these I have to resist the urge to start laughing aloud. Slowly, I strided toward the girl (whom I'll call Samantha), whose head I saw finally poke out amongst a field of ringlets and ponytails.

"Samantha." I was being gentle. I swear.

Her head popped back into the sea.

I walked up to her.

"Samantha."

A head timidly popped back up and slowly turned to face me. Then a torrential confession spilled out.

"Miss I didn't know that's what happens if you put foil in the microwave I swear I didn't do it on purpose so I got scared and that's why I ran away I'm sorry miss I'll never do it again."

There. It was out.

I put a hand on her shoulder. She held her breath, waiting for my next move.

Finally, I spoke. "Hey, it's all right! Next time, just let a teacher know when something's on fire, okay?"